She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. Because for the punishments je m’en moque. And now the fiend Gosse had taken even that away from her. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals.
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